


Fresh Linen

by OllyAster



Series: 404 Star Spirit Not Found [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllyAster/pseuds/OllyAster
Summary: Two twin brothers. How could they possibly be so different?
Series: 404 Star Spirit Not Found [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921738
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Fresh Linen

The Fernwell brothers. Well known among the upcoming freshmen of simple Driftriver. Though admittedly for all the wrong reasons.

Tord Fernwell. Same height as his twin yet nearly twice his size, built like that of a grizzly bear. Having more muscle and brute strength than any 14 year old has the right to. Wolf-like claws to back up that power. Power that can push people around.

Torrence Fernwell. Thin to the bone. Almost to a concerning degree. Frame wiry to match his dull claws. An angel to most when compared to his brother in both the literal and figurative sense. White halo with a soft inky black glow over his head saying more than needs to be.

* * *

Torrence didn’t bother to glance up when his brother trudged into their room. He knew it was Tord. From the way the other’s steps thumped against the floor, mixed with the pine tang of deodorant that signalled having just taken a shower.

It would be easy for Torrence to greet Tord. To raise his head from his brick sized AP textbook and scribbled notes. Or at least give a noise of acknowledgement. But he didn’t.

Neither did Tord.

Instead Torrence’s ears were met with a near animalistic growl.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” Torrence told the other. Anticipating what was about to come his way, he paused his reading as his brother spoke up.

“Where’s my basket?” Tord questioned Torrence. The other turned around to see Tord staring him down from the other side of the room, practically seething. Torrence looked to see that indeed the basket that usually sat in the corner between their shared dresser and slide open closet was missing. 

Torrence considered for a moment, humming. Running through the day in his head. He perked up as the events of earlier came back to him. Bringing his attention back to his brother whose black, frost tipped hair was still soaking wet, “I threw your clothes in the wash since the basket was getting full. I needed to wash some things too so I figured I could just throw them together.”

Tord huffed, “I can do my own laundry. I’m not a helpless baby like you.”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would have worked just fine,” Torrence retorted, choosing to ignore the last comment. His brother came over to the wooden desk he was working at, looming over him.

“And a simple ‘ok’ would have worked just fine from you,” Tord hissed. His pupils shifted from a pitch black to a glossy white.

Reflexively, Torrence leaned back. He could feel how the halo that buzzed around his head began to fray and shiver. Though there was no real weight behind the act of his brother looking him down with his dark brown eyes and now white pupils, it woke up something in his primal instincts to raise his guard.

After a moment Torrence sat up straight again. He shifted his own pupils to white, or at the very least tried to, faint hum starting at the core of his ribs. Apparently it worked because his brother abruptly started cackling.

“Is that supposed to scare me or something?!” Tord asked through his booming fit of laughter. He flashed his brother a wolfish grin, “We both know in a fight I’d  _ destroy _ you.”

Torrence felt frustration rise in his throat, “Listen. I’m not Maxwell or Todd who you can just push around however you please,” he countered. He stood up, bringing himself eye level with the other, “I might go down in a fight but I’ll go down swinging if I have too.”

In a moment's notice Tord’s pupils shifted back to their usual black. Looking at Torrence with wide eyes. His face went beet red, “I’d like to see you try!” Tord barked the challenge. Yet before Torrence even had a chance to reply he stormed off, footsteps echoing throughout the house. 

“That was.. interesting,” Torrence muttered to himself. He sat back down to his chair. Pulling his textbook and notes closer in order to see the ant size text. Every bit of his body seemed to be tingling. He grabbed his phone from the edge of the desk and slid open the camera app. His pupils had returned to their usual color despite his lingering adrenaline. A heavy sigh left him as he set the phone back down.

Torrence returned his attention to his book and began to take notes. Mindlessly droning away, writing things down. 

As Torrence went on, the slow approaching sound of thundering footsteps became louder and louder. He didn’t even bother to give Tord a glance as he walked into the room once again. At least until the scent of clean linen caught his attention. 

Carefully Torrence stole a glance out of the corner of his eye. Tord was carrying the basket of what could only be assumed to be the clean clothes which Torrence had thrown in the drier. It hit the carpeted floor with a sharp thud as Tord carelessly dropped it in it’s usual spot in the corner.

“Oh-”

“Not a word!” Tord snapped as he stomped out of the room, this time slamming the door with the force of a truck as he went.

All Torrence could do was blink. 


End file.
